What Is That, That Freaky Thing?
by reinadefuego
Summary: Deckard arrives at Mr. Nobody's facility, prepared for war against Cipher, but the welcome to his new team is a cold one, and Luke makes a connection no one thought of. Set in F8, AU to F6. Ficlet.


**A/N: **written for challenge 700 - "assemble" at writers_choice on livejournal.

* * *

"I called each of you here because I need your skills, talents. Will that be a problem?" Nobody said, resting his hands on the table. "Dominic Toretto has gone rogue. He's working with a terrorist named Cipher. Unfortunately because we're a man down, you're going to need some help."

The doors opened and Deckard walked in, that arrogant smug smirk taking over his face when he saw Luke. They had to be desperate to be willing to work with him of all people. There were plenty of other soldiers Nobody could contact, yet here he was with half a million and guaranteed freedom in his pocket. Collar folded down sharply and clothes pressed, he was the embodiment of precision.

"Izvinee podveensya." _You've got to be kidding_. Anna looked up from her seat at the table, sunglasses still resting on her head and a streak of sunscreen running down the side of her face. What the hell was he doing here? The last she'd known of his whereabouts was prison, and good riddance.

"You put me in a room with this criminal?" Luke spat in disgust. He glanced across the table, noting the looks of rage on Anna and Letty's faces respectively. They weren't the only ones pissed off. When Nobody had broken them out of prison, he'd expected Shaw to be thrown back inside immediately . . . yet here he was. Free, and looking smug.

"So how much are they paying you?" Anna said, her vowels warped by a mixed English-Russian accent. She sat upright on her chair and focused on the wall behind Letty, hands gripping the arms of her chair so she couldn't reach for the sidearm Nobody had provided. "Deckard?"

"Not enough. You?"

"I'm doing this petukh," she gestured to Nobody, "a favour."

Ramsey, Roman, and Tej, filed into the room soon after. They didn't look pleased either. Luke could see it in Ramsey's eyes: she hadn't expected the news of Dom's betrayal. No one had. Dom was their brother, their comrade. He preached loyalty and family like evangelicals preached being saved through Christ for a reason. Dominic Toretto was no traitor, but camera footage didn't lie.

Nor did flesh and blood. Gisele, alive and well and with a few scars to show for it, sat to Letty's left and hand in hand with Toretto's ex. Things were going well between them, it seemed. Ever since Letty had returned to the same hospital Gisele had dragged her to and found Gisele comatose in a room, something had changed. Memories of Letty's past had returned, and with them, unresolved emotions.

"Excuse me," Anna muttered, standing and hotfooting it to the bathroom. If he's here, where's Owen? Sweat clung to the sides of her nose and across her forehead. The air-conditioning was doing nothing to help the humid conditions of California. Anastasia tried not to scratch her arms, but the moment she was inside the bathroom, there were angry red lines down the length of her wrists.

Luke stood and made his way to the women's, knocking twice before he allowed himself in without a word. If he'd known Shaw was going to show up, he wouldn't have brought another wolf along.

* * *

"Well that was awkward," Nobody said to break the silence. He'd forgotten Shaw-Volkova relations had gone to shit after Spain. "Shaw, take a seat. Miss Yashar?"

"Cipher is a psychopath. No ifs or buts. She feels no emotion, no remorse, and she uses anyone she sees fit to get what she wants," Gisele began. Cipher was Mossad-raised and trained. A legacy child who'd broken away from the flock and rid herself of those 'pesky' morals. Or so the story went. "She'll kill Dom the minute he stops being useful."

"So she's Jakande 2.0," Deckard muttered.

Letty squeezed Gisele's hand in reassurance as she continued the briefing. All the scars, all the pain, the time wasted, was because of Shaw's brother. Ramsey was right: karma was a bitch. Owen Shaw was still comatose, and Gisele was here with her. All the pain he'd caused them, the jobs, the blackmail: it was all because Letty had tried to help Dom without fully realising what she was getting into.

"If she's Jakande, does that make you Hobbs 2.0?" Nobody's new second in command said from his seat against the wall. Nobody had told him to push the new team, so that was exactly what he would do.

"I'm certainly better than him, so yes."

Gisele snorted. So he thought. She'd read his MI6 file, and the three files Mossad kept on him and his family. "No one has ever caught Cipher because she never stays in one place for more than a week. She's constantly on the move and that poses a problem."

"Oh, please, go on," Deckard said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "keep pointing out the obvious flaws in this uninformed plan of yours."

* * *

"Nerves?" Luke said, feigning ignorance. "We are about to take on Dominic Toretto, it's understandable."

"Don't play stupid, Luke, it's unbecoming."

"Should I look that up in a dictionary?"

Anna groaned and leaned against the sink basin, tapping her right foot gently against the floor. Deckard and herself in a room without Owen to keep the peace? This wouldn't end well. "How did this all go so wrong?"

"I only know what I was told, but, forty six years ago, Michael Shaw and his wife decided they'd have a kid," Luke said, then grunted in surprise when she punched him in the arm. He looked down to see Anna glaring at him. "And that kid lost every genetic lottery because Deckard Shaw looks like a grownass naked mole rat."


End file.
